


Spin The Bottle

by thesurielships



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Fluff, rhys pov of a drabble of mine, truth or dare actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27558379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesurielships/pseuds/thesurielships
Summary: in which Rhys is basically jealous of himself.
Relationships: Feyre Archeron & Rhysand, Feyre Archeron/Rhysand
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [day 2: truth or dare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311167) by [thesurielships](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesurielships/pseuds/thesurielships). 



> The first part is Rhys' POV of a drabble i did a while back, called truth or dare.

Rhys knew what his friends were doing. He honestly wanted to punch all of their smug faces clean of the knowing smiles they directed at him as they suggested the game that would surely be his undoing.

Truth or dare.

It took all of his self-control to stop himself from squirming in his seat as the bottle landed on Feyre and Cassian whooped in joy. Amren smirked behind her glass of stolen wine. Azriel’s impassive face was belied by the amused glint in his eye.

Mor, his devious cousin, wouldn’t meet his eye.

“Truth,” Feyre said, chin high against their friends’ boos.

 _Good girl_ , thought Rhys. At least this way they couldn’t make them kiss through a dare.

However, Mor’s smirk told him he couldn’t relax yet.

She and Feyre were having one of those silent conversations they always had, that consisted of prolonged eye contact and small brow signals.

“Fine,” his cousin finally sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Favorite superhero?”

Feyre’s smile mirrored the relief he was feeling.

“The High Lord of the Night Court, from ACOTAR.”

_Oh, for the love of the Cauldron._

“What?” Cassian screeched in his ear and he winced. “Your favorite superhero can’t be a villain.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “He’s hardly a villain.”

Rhys inwardly scoffed. The asshole spiked a head on the heroine’s lawn, terrorized her mind and kissed her against her will, and he wasn’t a villain? Oh, please.

“I didn’t know you had such loose morals, Archeron,” Cassian remarked, and he echoed the sentiment.

The most delicious shade of pink alighted on Feyre’s cheeks. It was endearing and infuriating at the same time.

“I just like him, okay?”

 _Lucky bastard._ At this point, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he was jealous of a fictional character. Ever since Feyre had read ACOTAR a couple of years ago, she hadn’t shut up about him and his good looks and his smirk and his _wings -_

“Why?” Azriel asked, his lips twitching.

Rhysand’s eyes narrowed. His brother was messing with him.

Feyre bit her lip, her stormy blue gaze landing on his. His breath hitched in his throat at the knowing gleam in her eyes.

Not for the first time, Rhys wondered if she could read his mind. 

A small smile curved her lips. “I have my reasons,” she finally answered, her eyes never leaving his.

Butterflies came to life in his gut, and he cocked one eyebrow, struggling to keep his face blank.

Feyre’s blush deepened and she averted her gaze.

“Interesting,” he smirked at her, and he barely had the time to duck away from the flip flop she threw at his head. He laughed at her adorable scowl. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice –”

A sneaker hit him square in the jaw.

“Shame on you,” Feyre purred as he nursed his jaw.

“You wicked, beautiful thing.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Rhys, are you home?”

Rhysand blinked at Feyre as she rushed to the door wearing the shortest shorts he had ever seen and the football hoodie she had stolen from him during their senior year.

Had he just walked into his wildest fantasy?

“Rhys,” Feyre called as she waved her hand in front of his face. “Did you rush here straight from class?”

“You told me to get my ass here as-fucking-ap,” he quoted the text she had sent him ten minutes into his chemistry course.

She rolled her eyes. “I was bored. I’m the only one with today off. Mor has classes up until 4pm, and the rest of the gang won’t be here until 5.”

Rhysand followed her bobbing ponytail as she went deeper into her and Mor’s apartment off campus. As the one Rhys, Cassian and Azriel shared ‘reeked too much of boys’, and Amren had chosen to live on campus so she could spend her nights in the library and go back whenever she wanted, this had been their go-to hang out place since they had started college.

“Have you eaten yet?”

He shook his head. “I thought we were all having lunch together.”

Feyre gestured to the living room table, full to bursting with all their favorite chips and snacks. “If you call that lunch.”

He grimaced.

“Wait,” she said as she entered the kitchen and opened the fridge. “I think we’ve got some leftover soup from Mor’s latest crazy diet.”

Rhysand blinked again. His brain had stopped working the moment he had stepped through the door. “You’ll cook me soup?”

“Heat,” she shouted as she started banging pots and pans.

That settled it. He was dreaming.

He leaned against the doorjamb. “Feyre, darling,” he purred, repressing a giddy grin. “Are you accepting our mating bond?”

She dropped the wooden ladle on the counter and spun around, her blue eyes wide. “You… you’ve read A Court of Mist and Fury?”

He shrugged even as heat crept up his neck. He had pre-ordered it, hoping to gift it to her. He hadn’t planned for her to pre-order it too, which was quite foolish of him. She had read it that night and raved about it the entire following month. What was he to do but read it? He had already paid for the goddamned book, and he was curious to see how that bastard High Lord had managed to endear himself to her even more.

“Me and everybody else.”

She shook her head in disbelief, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips. “What did you think?”

He shrugged again. “It was okay.” He had cried. “That High Lord of yours leveled up pretty nicely,” he teased.

“Oh, yes,” Feyre sighed dreamily. “I told you all he wasn’t a villain!”

“You really should start dating real guys instead of being so protective of a fictional character,” he said nonchalantly, even as he held his breath.

She snorted and turned back to her task, carefully ladling the viscous frozen soup into a pot. “I just can’t date someone without wings. I have standards, you know.”

Well, thought Rhysand, that was a rejection if he’d ever heard one.


End file.
